


The Key

by Integrandia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Attempted assassination, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Near Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2679212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Integrandia/pseuds/Integrandia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke gave Anders the key to her home... but would it be enough to keep him safe? Female Hawke/Anders drama set in Act III</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaraTutiiro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaraTutiiro/gifts).



"This key opens the cellars below the house here. You can get in from Darktown... if you ever need a quick escape."

Sarai watched Anders leave, hanging the key around his neck and tucking it under his clothes. Giving Anders the key was a simple act, but it meant so much, to both of them. Sarai hoped it would put her mind at ease. The nights when Anders insisted on staying in his clinic, she barely slept, tossing and turning in her bed for fear of what might happen. Templars were patrolling the undercity. There was no doubt the rumors of an apostate healer had reached Meredith's ears.

She sighed. In spite of the danger, still Anders returned to his clinic. Sarai knew how important it was to him to help the destitute, especially the Ferelden refugees. But she wished she could protect him better. At least he had the key now. Maybe it would be enough.

~—~

"Message for you, messere. From Ser Varric, I believe." Bodahn handed a slip of paper to Hawke where she sat by the fire, reading.

"Thank you, Bodahn." Sarai read the note carefully. If Varric thought something was important enough to pass along, Sarai paid attention.

_Rumors about the Templars. Could be trouble. I passed a warning to Blondie, but you'd better keep an eye on things._

Her heart beat quickened. Anders was at his clinic. She glanced up at the clock—it was past midnight. It was too dangerous to wander the streets by herself at this time of night; an ambush could get her killed.

"Bodahn," she called to the dwarf, who had returned to the main hall. He quickly returned, appearing in the doorway.

"Yes, messere?"

"You haven't heard anything from Anders, have you? Or... anything down in the cellars?"

"No, messere. Is something the matter?"

"I hope not," she replied. After a few moment's silence, she said, "Do not concern yourself over it. It's late, no doubt you are eager for sleep."

"Don't you worry about old Bodahn, messere. I did plenty of sleeping in my younger days. Don't mind staying up now, if there's some help I can provide."

"No... no. I will call if I need anything."

"As you say, messere." Bodahn turned and left the room again.

Sarai paced the floor in front of the fireplace. She found herself remembering the day—so long ago now—when she had returned to Gamlen's house to find the Templars dragging away Bethany. Even now, the thought of her sister's face sent chills down her spine and filled her with dread. _Not Anders. Please, Maker, not Anders._

Hardly thinking, Sarai left her room and made her way downstairs. She grabbed a candle from the main hall and continued down into the cellar, then down another flight of stairs to the lowest level. She stared at the trapdoor that led into Darktown, and found herself shaking.

"Come on, Anders. Come on," she whispered to the wooden planks. She considered throwing open the door, calling for him. But if the Templars were down there, she would give him away and perhaps get them both killed. So she set the candle down on a crate and waited anxiously.

~—~

Anders crumpled the note Varric had sent and threw it into a corner. _Templars. Damned Templars._ He didn't have much time. But there were people in the clinic, people who needed his help. A young girl was sleeping fitfully in one of the cots, recovering after he had chased a nasty illness out of her lungs.

"Is something wrong?" asked one of the Fereldens, a man who had helped out in the clinic before.

Anders forced himself to take a deep breath. _Stay in control._ "Templars. I believe they're going to raid the undercity."

"Again?"

"Again." That fire flickered inside of him, but Anders willed it down. "We need to get these people out of here."

"That girl, there, I don't think we can move her." The Ferelden looked around the clinic at the others, still waiting for healing.

"We're going to have to." Anders also looked at the others. "I'll do what I can, but we have only minutes to spare. Maybe less."

He summoned up his healing magic. It had grown stronger over the years he had spent in Kirkwall. Though he had never spoken of it, he knew that Sarai was the reason. Her presence at his side helped him to keep his control, steadied his magic. Now he summoned up his most powerful healing spell and cast it like a wave across the clinic. The patients straightened up, and the girl on the cot sat up and looked around in confusion.

Anders raised his voice and spoke. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but you must leave. It is not safe here, for any of us. Return tomorrow, or the next day, and I will try to help you." Anders lifted the girl from the cot and put her in the arms of her mother, who looked at Anders fearfully.

"Will she—?"

"She'll be all right. Try to help her rest, she needs to build back her strength." Quietly, Anders added, "I'm sorry."

The woman nodded briefly and filed out of the clinic with the others.

Anders grabbed his staff and hurried out of the clinic as well. The people were gradually disappearing into the shadows. He waited until they were all gone before walking quickly to the ladder, looking up at the trapdoor above him. Darktown was quiet.

The assassin appeared instantly, unseen and unheard. As he drove the dagger between Anders' ribs, he hissed, "The Knight-Commander sends her regards, _apostate_." He gave the blade a brutal twist. Then he pulled away and let the mage crumple to the ground at the foot of the ladder. He was gone as quickly has he came.

~—~


	2. Chapter 2

 

Sarai started. What was that noise? She strained her ears. Had she heard something from below, or had it just been her imagination?

She hesitated for an agonizing moment; then she couldn't take it anymore. She glanced around the cellar for something to defend herself. _Of course I came down here without armor or weapon_ , she thought bitterly. She spied a dagger in an open box and snatched it up. Then she turned back to the trapdoor and threw it open.

In the darkness below her, she saw the silent form of her lover, curled on his side in a spreading pool of blood. Her own blood turned to ice; her knees felt weak. _No. No, no, Anders, no. Maker, no._ She couldn't move, could hardly think.

After a stunned second, she spun around. "Bodahn! Orana! To the cellars, now!" she bellowed up the stairs. Then she turned back to the trapdoor, dropping lightly down into Darktown.

"Anders..." She put a hand out gently, fearfully, to touch him. She could see the stain of blood on his robes. _Stabbed in the back_ , she thought numbly.

"Get up, we don't have much time." For a moment, Sarai couldn't place the voice, thought it was deeply familiar. She looked up in confusion.

"Who's there—" Then she saw the robed figure step out of the shadows, and her breath caught in her throat. "Bethany?"

"I told you, there's no time. Get out of the way." Bethany stepped forward. Sarai stumbled back, still shocked.

Now Bethany knelt beside Anders. Without thought, Sarai whispered, "Is he... gone?"

Bethany had already turned inward, to her healing power. She shook her head slightly. "He's still alive. Barely. Now let me focus."

Sarai watched as the faint glow from Bethany's hands flowed over Anders. Seconds dragged on like hours. Anders did not stir.

Finally, Bethany leaned back on her heels, her face tired and strained. "I've done what I can, but I can't stay to finish the healing. You'll have to nurse him back to health yourself."

"How did you—Why were you—" Sarai shook her head sharply, trying to bring her thoughts into focus. "What is going on?"

"Orsino sent me, sister. He suspected something would happen in Darktown tonight. He sent me here to watch and, if necessary, to intervene."

"Thank you," Sarai whispered. "I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"You don't have to." Bethany managed a quick smile. "But I have to go. The Templars will notice me missing." Sarai nodded in response. "Stay well, sister," Bethany said softly, then turned and strode away.

~—~

Above her, Sarai heard footsteps. "Serah Hawke? What is the matter?"

Sarai glanced from Anders to the trapdoor above her. Then she scaled the ladder quickly to find Bodahn and Orana's confused faces looking down at her. Sandal stood nearby, staring cheerfully at the wall.

"Mistress, is something the matter?" Orana asked, wide-eyed.

"There's no time to explain. Bodahn, I need you to rig up some kind of sling. Orana, fetch hot water and something we can use for bandages. And we'll need a cot. Please, hurry."

Bodahn glanced at his employer's bloody hands. "May I ask what the sling is for, messere?"

Sarai leaned out of the way and pointed at the body below them. "It's Anders. I can't get him up the ladder by myself. I'll need your help, and Sandal's, to hoist him up here."

The servants hurried back into the house on their assigned tasks. Sarai lowered herself back down the ladder to Anders' side.

She hardly dared to let herself think. The thought of losing him... tears swirled in her vision. _No. This is no time for crying, Sarai. He needs you right now._ She gently turned the mage onto his back, cradling his head in her lap and brushing the hair away from his face. _Don't think about what might be. Just do what needs to be done._

Bodahn's face appeared in the trapdoor opening. "I've got a sling, messere, of sorts. I think it'll do."

"Good, drop it down to me." She handed Anders' staff up to the dwarf as he passed the sling down.

Bodahn instructed her on how to secure the sling around Anders. When she was confident that all was ready, she climbed back up into the basement. Together with the two dwarves, they lifted Anders up to the trapdoor as gently as possible. Then they pulled him inside, and she shut the trapdoor firmly, locking it against the undercity.

Orana had brought everything Sarai had asked for and helped her to get Anders out of his bloody robes. They laid him on a cot in the cellar; Sarai didn't want to move him any more than was absolutely necessary. His wound was still seeping blood, and he remained deathly still. With Orana's assistance, Sarai bathed Anders carefully and bandaged him. She pulled a blanket over him. Then she pulled one of the crates close to his cot and sat on it, reaching out with one hand to gently hold his shoulder.

"Messere, you don't plan to stay here all night, do you?" Bodahn asked.

"Yes," she replied simply. "I'm not going to leave him."

"But mistress—" Orana hesitated. She was still not used to speaking her mind. "Mistress, don't you think you should get some sleep?"

"I appreciate your concern," Sarai said to both the servants. "But the answer is no. I will not go upstairs. I will stay here for as long as Anders does."

Bodahn and Orana exchanged a concerned look, but they knew how stubborn Sarai Hawke could be. "At least let us bring you down a proper chair to sit on, messere," Bodahn said pleadingly.

Sarai smiled in spite of herself. "Very well. Thank you, Bodahn."

Bodahn brought a chair and a blanket down to the cellar; then he and the other servants retreated to the main part of the house. Sarai wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and settled into the chair to keep watch. She could feel her own weariness, but adrenaline still coursed through her. _This was too close. If Bethany hadn't been there..._

She slid out of the chair and knelt on the ground beside Anders' cot. With a shaking hand, she gently smoothed his brow. "Anders, I can't lose you. You have to come back to me." He did not react. His breathing was so faint she could barely hear it.

Squeezing back tears, Sarai took one of Anders' hands in her own. She sat quietly, watching his ashen face. After a while, her head grew heavy, and she rested it against the edge of the cot. Slowly, her eyes closed.

~—~


	3. Chapter 3

"She's down here, ser. Perhaps you can convince her to come up to the house."

"I'll see what I can do, Bodahn. Glad I came by to check on things."

Sarai jerked awake, panicked. She surged to her feet and turned to face the intruders coming down the stairs. _They will not take him!_ she thought fiercely.

"Whoa, Hawke, calm down. It's just me. Well, me and Bodahn. And Bianca, of course." Varric entered the lowest cellar room, surveying the scene. He snorted. "You're in rough shape, Hawke. And I've seen you after you fought a rock wraith."

Sarai relaxed. "Oh, Varric. I'm sorry. It's Anders." She gestured at the cot. "He nearly..."

"So I've heard. I guess I didn't warn him in time."

"Or perhaps he chose not to listen." Sarai replied quietly. "Don't blame yourself."

"Only if you return the favor."

Sarai let her gaze drop back to the mage. Varric watched her in silence. She swayed slightly on her feet.

"Hawke. You need to rest. Go upstairs before we have two sickbeds down here."

"I can't. I can't leave him alone. What if something happens?" A note of panic started to show in her voice.

Varric sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. Dealing with a half-dead mage would be hard enough without also having a jumpy and overprotective Hawke to reassure.

"I'm begging you, Hawke. Go upstairs. Get into your bed. Sleep." He cut off Sarai's next protest. "I will stay right here with Anders. I promise you, no harm will come to him."

"What if he wakes up? What if—"

"If anything changes, I promise you, I will send Bodahn to wake you up. All right?"

Sarai still hesitated, glancing down at Anders again.

"You're no use to him if you can't even stand up straight." Varric reminded her.

She sighed and nodded. "Just... come get me if anything happens."

"I will. Now go get some rest. Bianca and I can handle this."

Sarai walked slowly up the stairs, feeling exhausted now. It wasn't like the physical exhaustion she felt when she returned from the Deep Roads, or after fighting the Arishok—it was emotional exhaustion. She felt like she had after her mother's death. She tried to put the thought out of her mind.

Orana seemed visibly relieved to see Sarai making her way upstairs. "Oh, mistress! Are you going to get some rest? Can I bring you something to eat? Would you like me to stoke the fire in your room?"

"Thank you, Orana, I will be getting some sleep. I'll call for you if I need anything."

When she reached her room, she sank gratefully into bed. Behemot whined in concern and wagged his short tail.

"It's all right, Behemot. I'm just tired."

The mabari tilted his head as if asking a question.

"Why don't you go sit by the door? If anything happens downstairs, come wake me up."

As Behemot settled himself in the doorway, Sarai eased herself under the covers. In minutes, her breathing slowed, and she was asleep.

~—~

Sarai slept dreamlessly and deeply. She awoke with a start and could not even begin to guess how much time had passed. _What woke me?_ she wondered.

"Hawke, get your ass down here already!" shouted Varric from downstairs.

She leapt out of bed and raced for the stairs. Bodahn met her on the landing. "Messere, I'm glad to see you're awake. It seems that you are needed in the basement." Sarai took the stairs three at a time. When she reached the lowest level of the estate, she stumbled to a halt.

Varric was facing off against Anders— _Or Justice_ , Sarai thought, for Anders stood, stripped to the waist, his inner fire shining through his skin and glowing in his eyes. He had picked up his staff and brandished it threateningly. Varric had one hand on Bianca, ready to draw his own weapon. He glanced over his shoulder at Sarai.

"Can you please talk Blondie down for me? He's gonna reopen his blasted wound if he doesn't calm down."

Sarai stepped forward, placing herself directly in front of Anders. Behind her, Varric retreated to the base of the stairs, still ready to defend himself and Sarai if necessary.

"Anders—" Sarai began. "Justice. Please, you have to lie back down."

"You will not make a prisoner of me!" the mage roared in that deep voice that had become all too familiar to Sarai. Her bones hummed at the sound of it.

"You're not a prisoner," she replied, keeping her voice as steady as she could. "You're injured. You need more time to recover."

"Do not try to trick me, rogue!" he snarled in response.

"It's not a trick!" she cried. "Take a look at yourself—you were nearly killed!"

Those were the wrong words to say. He lowered his staff to ready an attack. "Mages are hunted for gifts they did not ask to possess. We are killed simply for being who we are. You expect me to sit by and do nothing in response?"

Red blood began to bloom across the white bandages on Anders' torso. Sarai's own temper flared. "You're reopening the wound—you must stop this!" she snapped at the spirit.

"I will never cease in my quest for justice!"

"And if you kill Anders? Will you continue to animate him until his corpse rots out from under you, like that other Grey Warden?"

This gave the mage pause. For the first time, it seemed that Justice had been rendered speechless. He looked down at the bandage, saw the blood soaking through. "No. I do not wish that. Perhaps there is wisdom in what you say."

The fire went out of Anders' eyes. He collapsed forward, and Sarai rushed to catch him. Varric approached and helped her return him to the cot. Anders had lapsed back into unconsciousness.

"Honestly, Hawke, I don't know how you put up with him. Andraste's ass, he's infuriating. When he's not moping, he's rampaging. When he's not rampaging, he's getting himself killed."

Sarai smiled the smile of a woman in love. "It isn't so bad."

Varric resolutely ignored the look. "Anyway, he's reopened the wound. I don't suppose you know of any other apostate healers hiding out in Darktown who'd be willing to patch him up?"

"No. But I ordered more herbal poultices. Orana should be back with them by now."

"All right, I'll go find her. We'll get him fixed up. Again."


	4. Chapter 4

Sarai redressed Anders' wound, treating him as best she could with herbal remedies. As long as he remained unconscious, his powerful healing gift was useless. Once again, she tucked a blanket around him. She leaned back with a sigh.

"Come on, Hawke. Let's go upstairs and get you something to eat."

"Varric, I still don't want to leave him. What if he wakes up? What if something else goes wrong?"

As if on cue, Aveline appeared on the stairs. "Hawke. How are you?"

"Aveline? I'm... Well, I'm dealing with something right now, actually. Why are you here?"

"Varric sent for me," she replied matter-of-factly. "Asked if I'd take a turn watching over a certain half-dead mage."

Sarai turned to Varric, surprised. "You did this? When?"

"While you were getting your beauty sleep, Hawke. I've arranged for watch shifts for the next three days, if we need them."

Sarai's heart was warmed. _Varric. Of course,_ she thought. _He never admits it, but he's taking care of us all behind the scenes._ Then she frowned and looked back at Aveline. "Are you sure you're willing to do this? You don't even like Anders."

"Just because I don't agree with him doesn't mean I wish him ill," Aveline responded. "Besides, I know it's important to you. That's enough."

"Thank you, Aveline," Sarai said earnestly. "And you, Varric."

Varric spread his hands in a magnanimous gesture. "What am I here for? Now can we eat?"

Dwarf and rogue made their way up the stairs while the captain of the guard settled herself in the chair beside Anders' cot.

~—~

Anders remained unconscious throughout the day. Varric sat with Sarai, doing his best to keep her distracted. He was regaling her with a story about a bar fight in Val Royeaux that spilled into the nearby Grand Cathedral when Aveline finished her watch. After Aveline, Isabela showed up at the estate. She gave a wink and a wave to Sarai and Varric before making her way downstairs. All was quiet as the afternoon dragged on.

All of a sudden, Sarai heard a commotion coming from the cellar. Her heart pounding, she once again raced down the stairs. As she approached, she could hear two voices.

"What in Andraste's name do you think you're doing?" _Is Anders awake_? she wondered.

"I was just trying to look at your bandages, you big sissy!" Isabela yelled in response. Sarai walked into the cellar as the pirate continued, "I wasn't sneaking a peek at your _staff_."

"Although," she said suggestively as she walked past Hawke and up the stairs, "You are one lucky lady, my friend."

Sarai ignored her friend's innuendo and looked carefully at Anders. He was sitting up on the cot, holding the blanket to his chest. "You're awake. Are you all right?" she asked, concern fighting with relief in her voice.

"I—I'm not sure. What happened, anyway?"

"You don't remember?"

"I remember... Varric sent me a warning. About Templars in Darktown. I remember getting the patients out of the clinic, and then I was coming here, through the Darktown entrance. But I can't remember anything after leaving the clinic."

Sarai swallowed, the thought of what had happened still fresh in her mind.

"Sarai, what's wrong? What happened?"

She moved closer to him and he made room for her on the cot. "Anders... you nearly died. I think there must have been an assassin. You were stabbed in the back. I found you bleeding to death on my doorstep." She blinked back tears as Anders put a loving arm around her.

"You saved my life."

Sarai shook her head. "No. Bethany did." In response to his look of surprise, she continued, "Bethany was there in Darktown, too. Somehow, the First Enchanter knew this would happen. He sent Bethany out of the Circle. If she hadn't been there to heal you..."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then Anders moved slightly. Sarai watched as he began to glow with magical power. His focus turned inward. _He's healing himself. He'll be all right, now_. She gave a quiet sigh of relief.

When Anders had finished the healing, he looked back at her. "You're right. I should be dead. Thank you—for everything. For always caring for me."

She took his hand. "Anders, the Templars weren't making a random sweep of the city. They were after you in particular. They want you dead."

Anders nodded slightly but looked away. Anger and concern warred in his heart. _The Templars will never stop hunting me. How can I possibly protect her?_

"Anders," she pressed, "I'm begging you. Don't return to Darktown. Stay here with me, where it's safe."

A wave of revulsion washed over him. He struggled to keep his emotions in check. "You know I won't let myself be locked up, here or in the Gallows," he said, his voice strained.

Sarai looked up into his face. "I don't want to lock you up. But Anders... I can't bear to lose you. If Bethany hadn't been there last night, I would have watched you die in my arms. Just like..." she stopped, her voice choked with emotion.

"Just like Leandra," Anders finished quietly. Sarai nodded as tears slipped down her face. He pulled her close and held her. "I'm so sorry, my love." After several minutes, Sarai quieted. Anders looked into her eyes. "What would you do if I told you to stay here in the estate, for you own safety?"

She smiled sadly. "I'd never allow it," she admitted.

"You don't really expect me to stay here, do you?"

"No." She sighed. "But then... You're just going to have to put up with me. I'm not letting you out of my sight again. If you sleep in the clinic, so do I."

"So what, you'll be my bodyguard?" The idea made him smile.

"Exactly," Sarai said, returning the smile. "And let me tell you right now, I'm the best in the business. My services don't come cheap."

"I'm short on coin right now, do you accept... _other_ forms of payment?"

"Normally I wouldn't, but I'll make an exception for you." She leaned forward and kissed him.

They were startled by a voice coming from the stairs. "Andraste's tits, do you two _always_ talk like this? It's revolting! I'm honestly going to be sick!"

The couple glared in the direction of the stairs, where Isabela had obviously been eavesdropping. Anders looked down at the woman he loved. "I don't understand what she's talking about, my sweetest pastry, the light of my heart. Do you?"

Suppressing a laugh, Sarai replied, "I can't imagine, my manly mage."

"All right, all right, I'm leaving!" Isabela's swearing grew fainter as she retreated up the stairs.

Sarai and Anders dissolved into laughter. When he had caught his breath, Anders said, "Where were we?"

"You were just about to render payment to your new bodyguard," Sarai responded with a hungry smile.

"Well, why don't you take me upstairs, where I can pay you properly. In a real bed."

Hand in hand, the two made their way up to Sarai's bedroom. The key to the estate bounced where it hung around Anders' neck. _Somehow, I will keep him safe_ , Sarai promised herself. But that could wait.


End file.
